


Fair Seducer

by sidebyside_archivist



Series: Fair Seducer and The Morning After [1]
Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Dubious Consent, First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-07-01
Updated: 2002-07-01
Packaged: 2020-06-26 06:40:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,072
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19762669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sidebyside_archivist/pseuds/sidebyside_archivist
Summary: When Spock can't decide whether to take him or leave him, Kirk decides to up the incentive. Fair Warning: Seducer!Kirk meets Emotional!Spock.





	Fair Seducer

**Author's Note:**

> Note from LadyKardasi and Sahviere, the archivists: this story was originally archived at [Side by Side](https://fanlore.org/wiki/Side_by_Side_\(Star_Trek:_TOS_zine\)) and was moved to the AO3 as part of the Open Doors project in 2019. We tried to reach out to all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are the creator and would like to claim this work, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Side by Side’s collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sidebyside/profile).
> 
> Author's Notes: S.R. Benjamin's ["Ties That Bond"](http://www.trekiverse.org/archive/2000/story/tos/TiesThatBond) (itself a response to the 'don't give me any of that bonding crap' challenge) inspired this one. I offer my humble work with apologies for the thematic replay.

As soon as he entered his quarters at precisely 0117:13, ship's time, Science Officer Spock knew something was not right. Subtle clues all around him indicated that the room was occupied, not least of all the subtle, rhythmic sound of breathing, just barely audible above the wsssh of the air system. It was coming from the innermost part of the cabin, beyond the dividing screen.

Spock set down the padd and tricorder he had brought with him from the lab, and strode towards the bed, turning on the room lights as he did so. What he saw made him stop short.

A wide expanse of bare, white flesh under the fluorescent lights, which seemed to glow in its dark red setting; Spock's brain had less than a second to register the aesthetic effect before he was overtaken by panic. Why would a naked man be lying face down on his bed in what surely, he thought, mentally checking himself, were _his_ quarters? To his shock, the figure on the bed moved his head to turn and look at him. For an instant, he wondered if he were fantasizing, but the too-hard contraction of his heart in his side dispelled this appealing supposition. With a jolt of recognition, the Science Officer jumped back a step and snapped his eyes to the drapery above.

"Captain!"

There was a slight rustle of bedclothes. Spock attempted to collect himself. "What are you doing-- may I ask what you are doing in my quarters, Sir?"

When no answer was forthcoming, Spock reluctantly slid his gaze back down to Captain Kirk, who had propped his head up on a hand and was smiling bemusedly. Spock saw the body as well; still hidden were the stomach and genitals, but the back and hips were arched in what the science officer identified as lordosis position. His posture was highly inappropriate.

Kirk caught Spock's eyes effortlessly. "I think you know very well what I'm doing here."

"I do," the Vulcan retorted, "but you should know, as well, why I must ask you to leave."

The captain nodded slightly and looked pensive for a moment. By his movements, Spock was certain he was about to get off the bed and leave, and he relaxed his stiff shoulders in relief. But then Kirk confounded him again.

"Nope. I don't understand." He was looking straight at Spock, and the latter involuntarily recalled his commanding officer's implacable drive once he had made a decision. Spock began to mentally prepare himself to control. He was caught unawares by Kirk's sudden softening of posture and attitude, his eyes which held exotic secrets, the sensuous ripple of his muscles. "I guess," he said, wriggling ever so slightly on the bed, "you are going to have to come here and explain it to me again."

Spock noted his sudden increase in heart rate and respiration. He pressed his lips together in a thin line, trying to slow down his breathing. This situation was rapidly escaping his control.

"Come here," the figure on the bed said silkenly, and his legs moved of their own accord. He found himself standing over James Kirk, who had twisted his head back to regard him in a very quiet way. His voice was rough when he spoke. "Captain, we have already discussed this."

With a barely-voiced "mnh," the captain pushed his chin into the pillow, looking away from Spock and into the bulkhead.

Spock felt suddenly lost, like a person who suddenly realizes that he is talking only to himself. Had he been in a more thoughtful mood, he might have pondered how Kirk could nonchalantly plunk himself down naked in his bed and then act like his presence was of no consequence, but at 0119:41 mental and physical fatigue was causing his faculties to slip. From his vantage point he could see all of Kirk's back but only the back of his head, and he imagined that Kirk's body was like a curious object momentarily abandoned by its owner.

If no one was watching, it would not hurt for him to yield to his curiosity and touch.

Spock ran his hand lightly Kirk's back, tasting the texture of his hairless skin with the pads of his fingertips. Seeing that he had been allowed once, he stroked up and down, affectionately, remembering how dear this being was to him.

He had once been ashamed of those feelings, but now they welled from him easily. He loved his captain, his closest friend. Why now, when he had finally become accustomed to their intimacy, did they both have to start experiencing feelings which frightened and troubled him? Certainly this was a part of Vulcan adulthood, but he wished illogically to hold onto his youth a little longer. He stilled his hand, never taking his eyes off his friend's back, and swallowed hard. He saw new responsibilities stretched out before him, some he could not yet know or name. In the deepest privacy of his thoughts, he could admit how that frightened him.

"Spock." The science officer started at the sound of his name. "Why did you stop?" The captain turned his head towards his friend.

"You've done this before." He could see Spock was wearing his most expressionless face. He watched him wordlessly sit on the edge of the bed, and bed over to his task.

Spock began to knead Kirk's shoulderblades with both hands. This action calmed him considerably by its ordinariness. His hands knew the way around his shoulder muscles. He was familiar with the way he relaxed into his touch, how he expressed his pleasure and appreciation. The muscles constricting his throat relaxed; he felt as if he could speak again.

"Jim . . . why are you here?"

The human turned over under his hands and displayed his body provocatively. "You-- you yourself-- said that this was not a decision to be made on the basis of decided, logical, utilitarian arguments." He smiled brilliantly. "So, I'm giving you the chance to make a rash decision in the heat of passion, instead."

Spock was struck dumb. Kirk brought his hands up to Spock's still-clothed sides. "It's okay, go ahead and do it. My mind is already made up."

Spock leaned over Kirk, seeing the body offered to him, and froze.

Surely Kirk did not expect him to know how to do this? He closed his eyes. "Captain, I can't."

When he opened his eyes again, Kirk had moved into a sitting posture, face barely a decimeter from his own. His hazel eyes were full of concern and affection, which quickly melted into what some might call wicked delight. "You-- can't? As in you don't know how? There's actually something that you're _not_ an expert at?"

"You are correct. I have never taken the active role, with a male, before."

 _I have never been in such a_ serious _sexual encounter, either,_ he thought, but did not say it. His previous sexual history had consisted of acts partaken in out of curiosity and a handful of purely recreational encounters.

"Is that supposed to mean that you have taken the 'passive' role with a 'male' before?"

The Vulcan nodded.

"Did you like it?" Kirk observed Spock carefully for a reaction, but saw only the slightest of shrugs in reply.

"So you didn't like it."

"I did not say that. I believe I might have enjoyed it more if I had had the slightest personal interest in the person I did it with."

The Captain smiled as if this amused him. "I see. I assume that is not going to be a problem this time."

Spock had difficulty suppressing a smile of his own. This conversation had veered into the ridiculous. "I think not, Sir."

"'Sir?' Am I going to get 'sir'ed all night, Mister Spock?"

"Jim," the Vulcan managed with reluctance, "I mean it as an expression of respect, not to push you away. Where I come from it is very unusual for a person to employ familiar address with a superior."

"Wouldn't you call these-- _familiar_ circumstances?"

" _Especially_ in these circumstances."

Kirk regarded him with the air of someone who does not, quite, believe what he is hearing. "Hierarchical culture," Spock heard him mutter.

Finally the human jumped up onto his knees and grabbed Spock's biceps with the hands that had been on his sides. "I've got it, Spock," he exclaimed, utterly oblivious to his state of undress.

Have got what? Spock thought, dazzled.

"Don't you see? Why it's taken us so long to get to this point. I was raised in a democratic culture. Where I come from it would be totally inappropriate for a supervisor to approach a subordinate. It's--sexual harassment. But you-- you come from a hierarchical culture.

Where you come from, for a subordinate to approach a superior--"

"--would be highly inappropriate." Spock finished. "Yes, I see. I had not seen the problem in those terms."

"No? How did you see it?"

Kirk was shaking him lightly by the shoulders every time he spoke, and it was just this side of irritating. He wished to ask Kirk to restrain his exuberance, but was certain that the request would come out sounding hostile. "I merely thought of my inexperience in such matters. . . I am unused to interdependent relationships."

"But we've been friends for a few years now. Isn't that--interdependence?"

Spock had nothing to say to that.

Suddenly the young captain lost patience and leaned over Spock, swimming into his vision. "Maybe it's illogical, but if you're going to make me do all the work, I feel like that makes me responsible. So I'm going to give you one last chance to back out. If you really don't want to do this, you can leave, now."

This was too much. "Leave? My own quarters?"

That trademark smirk. "Darn. I almost had you going there. _I_ 'll leave. If that's what you want, Spock. Because if I stay, you know what will happen next."

The captain had taken his hands off Spock and dropped them to his knees, waiting, while Spock struggled with this question. He did not want to be the one making this decision, but now he asked himself, why? because that way I could blame Jim if things did not go right?

Still, he did not want to be making this decision; he preferred, as in all things, to follow the captain's lead-- to the extent that he believed the captain was headed in the right direction.

"Spock. . ."

Actually, the captain had made it very simple for him, had he not? It was a matter of whether he wanted him to stay or go. He was afraid of what would happen if he stayed, but this was a simple, primitive fear of the unknown, which he refused to succumb to. On the other hand--

how he wanted Jim to stay!

He had tried to avoid emotional decisions in his life, but on this question logic had yielded no verdict. This union offered potential advantages and disadvantages for both of them. He was forced, then, to listen to his emotions, and they ruled most emphatically on the side of James T. Kirk. With this realization, Spock lifted his head to meet Kirk's eyes and could barely get the words out. "I want. . .you to-- stay."

Then Kirk kissed him.

Waves of heat passed through him. He was trembling but did not care.

He felt as if logic had suddenly fled him and he could only _feel_.

He felt Kirk's body pressed against his.

He felt Kirk's lips gently parting his own, Kirk's tongue slowly tracing the inner contours of his mouth.

He felt his blood beating in his veins, the exertion of his respiratory system, the tension in his muscles. It was most inefficient to exert so much energy to do so little.

Kirk started to suck at Spock's mouth with his own, then pulled away and ran a line of kisses under his jaw right up to his ear. "Hey, beautiful," he whispered huskily, "is it hot in here or is it just me?"

Spock smiled for a second, involuntarily, at this frivolity.

Kirk ran his hands down Spock's sides again, this time hooking his fingers under the base of Spock's tunic as he did so. "You, Mister, are completely over-dressed."

Spock was utterly still as the captain lifted his blue tunic up to his arms, and then, seeing that Spock was not going to complete the action, up over his head. Spock looked mournfully down at the heap it made on the floor, but this was not a time to go over and fold it, like he wanted to.

"Spock," Kirk said, turning his face back to look at him, "your shirt will be there in the morning."

It was not that, but Spock did not want to hear Jim laugh at his habit of folding dirty clothes. Again.

Kirk pulled him farther onto the bed. "Take off your boots, Spock,"

he said, with his arm around Spock's shoulders. The science officer complied in a perfunctory manner. Now he understood why people were so reluctant to address practical details in sexual encounters. He had stepped out of the rushing stream of passion and wanted no more than to step back in. Here he was lost, not knowing what to think or feel.

"Are you alright?" Kirk asked, ever solicitous. Spock turned to see Kirk studying his face carefully. Evidently he had seen Spock's expression, or lack thereof.

"It is just that . . . I am not certain I am in the right frame of mind for . . . for this."

"Hmm, seeing me like this just doesn't do it for you?" Kirk had drawn Spock towards him and was now moving his body in a playful and sensual display. "Guess I need to spend more time in the gym."

"Jim, there is certainly nothing wrong with your appearance."

"Oh, we're back to 'familiar address.' You're obviously too comfortable, then."

Spock was entranced by the smug grin on his captain's face, knowing full well that he should know better than to pay it any heed.

The human moved towards him, rising from where he had half-sprawled upon the bed. His hands rose to cover Spock's chest, his thick, stubby fingers began to caress and massage his pectoral muscles. Then he very deliberately caught Spock's nipples under his thumbs, rubbed and pinched through the fabric of his thermal undershirt. Spock pulled Kirk's hands off of him before he even knew what he was doing.

"Spock?"

"It hurt."

"Then you're sensitive there," he said gently. Spock released his hands and he ran light strokes across his chest, barely touching.

Then he finally gathered Spock in his arms and brought their lips together.

Spock was ready this time. He tipped his head to facilitate oral contact. Their open mouths met to form a wet seal, each tonguing and sucking to create the most delightful pressure. Spock closed his eyes, enjoying this intimacy and thinking of that which would follow.

He withdrew his tongue to allow the captain better access, but Kirk would not have it and tried to wrap the tip of his tongue around Spock's to draw him back into his own mouth. 'Even here he is trying to engage me in play,' he thought, and a light feeling filled his breast, like sunlight gleaming off myriad peaks of waves. He brought his arms around his friend, to draw him into a closer embrace.

Something like laughter sounded in his mind; it was the brush of Jim's thoughts. They were close, not touching in the right way for mental contact, but enough to share emotion and it was pleasant, so pleasant to share this mutual delight in their friendship.

Kirk broke off the kiss, although Spock did not want him to stop. He ran a callused finger along Spock's jaw. "Are you uncomfortable yet?"

he said huskily. "Am I disturbing your control?"

"You always disturb my control," answered Spock, hoping to be kissed again. "It is simply a matter of degree."

"Mmmmm." The human drew his hand slowly down Spock's body, slipping over a suddenly tense belly and dropping onto a thigh.

"Captain!" the Vulcan hissed.

"You _do_ know what happens next, don't you?" the human said quietly, almost meditatively, his eyes fixed not on Spock's face, but on his crotch. He slid his hand along the dark fabric towards the point where the folds and creases met. Spock squeezed his legs together against the impending invasion.

"Relax," soothed the human. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Spock allowed him to gently part his legs, but it was with difficulty.

Every instant that _his_ fingers were in contact with the inside of his thighs made him want to jump away or cry out. As the hand worked its way closer, he felt his organ stir as it engorged with blood and felt his nerves cry out for touch. Kirk was taking his time getting there. Spock looked up then down again and realized that they had both been looking at his crotch, watching his body's reaction, and his cheeks started to sting.

Kirk laid his curious hand over the bulge and squeezed gently.

"Captain!" Spock's breath was coming out in uneven gasps. Kirk spoke into his ear. "I want to see all of you." The statement brought Spock's blood rushing all over his body. His surface temperature rose.

"Oh Spock, you're green," Kirk murmured, and began rolling Spock's undershirt up. "It's good I like that color," he whispered, and kissed the nearest ear. Spock finally pulled his arms out and drew the garment over his head and wrists, letting Kirk toss it to the floor. "In fact, I think it's becoming my favorite," Kirk finished as he buried his face in Spock's chest and began licking and sucking.

Spock was pushed backwards into a reclining position, and shut his eyes while his lover used his skillful hands and tongue on his upper torso and throat. Finally his resistance gave way and he began to sigh in pleasure. He was surprised when Kirk jumped up and cupped his face with his hand; his eyes flew open.

"Do that again," Kirk purred.

Spock returned Kirk's intense hazel-eyed look with one of utter devotion. Spock did not have to open his mouth or put his hand to Kirk's face when they could communicate with their eyes alone.

They held each other's gaze for a long moment. Then Kirk kissed Spock on the forehead, then the lips, then bent down and pressed his lips to his navel. Then he fingered the catch to Spock's trousers. Spock tensed and barely managed not to flinch, but relaxed as his pants and briefs came off without incident. He let Kirk push his legs up and felt a fascinating satisfaction at having his beloved between his knees, such that he squeezed his thighs against the human's bare body.

Kirk smiled broadly at his eagerness, and lay down on top of him, so their cocks brushed . . . touched . . . rubbed together! Spock arched his back and pressed closer and Kirk held on tightly to him. The more experienced human began to rock his hips, sliding his stiff cock and balls along the Vulcan's shaft. It was too much for Spock; thought flitted away and was replaced with raw sensation. Dimly he was aware of cool hands stroking and fondling his skin elsewhere on his body.

His over-sensitized penis wanted to bury itself in more of Kirk's skin. "Captain," Spock moaned, knowing whose flesh was pressed against his own.

"Spock," Kirk answered, mind on immediate practical concerns, "I prepared-- before you came. It would be easier-- the first time-- if you want to. I mean-- waste of good lube."

Spock was too far gone to be up to this level of conversation.

"Just-- do-- something," he pleaded.

Grinning wickedly, Kirk pushed up on his hands and knees. Spock cried out, bereft. The human spread his legs over Spock's belly and lowered himself onto his lover's cock, grunting with pleasure as he did so.

Yes! Spock's whole penis was enveloped, gripped firmly at the base.

And he was inside-- inside Jim! It seemed that his flesh became harder, straighter. He had felt pleasure at penetration but never such power. To be inside-- the Captain! To hear him grunt and groan in pleasure, to watch and feel him impaling himself on oneself, to hear him say one's name over and over, to open one's mouth to his wet and energetic kisses!

Kirk was on his knees straddling Spock, bent over Spock, pressing flesh against flesh, even as Spock twisted and arched his back. Spock had brought one hand up to Kirk's face when they recommenced their kissing, brushing the meldpoints but too distracted to connect, while his free hand stretched over Kirk's buttocks in an ineffectual attempt to control the pace of penetration. Kirk, having other plans, reached behind his back to snatch that hand and brought it between their bodies, hitching himself up to separate them enough so that he could place Spock's untrained hand around his cock.

Kirk knew Spock had caught on when those long, thin fingers began to move. He gasped when Spock rubbed his thumb close to the sensitive node at the base of the glans. Now they were still, panting, lips separated but nose to nose. Spock was conscious of nothing but the look in Jim's eyes, a look which seemed to say 'now.' Spock closed his eyes and sank back, a look of utter serenity over his features.

It was only the slightest of movements in those fine-boned hands which put Kirk over the edge.

His soul cried out as he began to come, until he realized that Spock inside him was orgasming as well. He grabbed Spock hard by the shoulders, pressed his forehead to Spock's and saw stars. . .

Spock had not, quite, lost consciousness, but his vision had gone black during climax and he was surprised to find his eyes open a few seconds later. It mattered not: his eyes could see nothing more consequential than the ceiling plates, while his beloved's head was resting against his cheek, slowly rising and falling with each breath. There was stillness now where there had been fury; passion had given way to contentment. Spock felt at peace with everything in the universe, but especially he felt at peace with Jim Kirk.

Perhaps adulthood would not be so burdensome after all.

Spock brought his arms around the captain's back, and the latter stirred, and smiled, and rolled his bedmate onto his side. Spock decided it would be sensible at this juncture to disengage from the captain's body, and did so.

"Hey . . . " complained a voice accompanied by a lazy smile, "don't be so eager to go."

Spock propped his head on his hand and noted the changes that lovemaking had wrought on his companion: flushed lips, glowing pink cheeks, still-dilated pupils, and a most appealing relaxation of the facial muscles. Spock had to touch.

Kirk entwined his fingers with Spock's as Spock caressed his face, arousing and surprising the Vulcan all over again. He withdrew his hand.

"Don't be shy. . . I like it. . . when you touch my mind."

"It is not that. When you touched me. . . it aroused me strongly. I did not think it was possible. . . so soon after a sexual encounter. . ."

Kirk's mouth opened in mock surprise. "You mean, you're _still_ not satisfied? Boy, you really are hard to please."

Once again, Spock could not help but smile at the teasing. "I am quite satisfied. The experience was most pleasing."

"Are you saying I please you?"

"Yes."

"And you would be willing. . . to let me please you again some time?"

"Yes!" the Vulcan gushed. (Do Vulcans gush?)"Good! Because I'm going to make a man out of you, you impossible, little, 43-year-old lost boy." Kirk poked Spock with his index finger when he said this; it was. . . irritating.

"Based on my understanding of the term, I do not believe 'little' applies, Sir, particularly in light of the fact that you are shorter than myself. And I should like to remain a Vulcan, thank you."

The human smiled enigmatically.

\---

Deep into alpha shift's sleep cycle two beings lie curled together, one Vulcan, one human. Over the sussuration of the air system two steady sets of breath form a duet that only a Vulcan can hear.


End file.
